In April of 2015, I wrote a piece called “The Real Reason I Have Long Hair”. The premise surrounded a funny interaction I had with my grandmother who has never been really known for her kindness even in youth, and her thoughts of why I as a man should have short hair. The article basically described that I didn’t have long hair for the sake of being different; or bucking the gender roles she so strongly defended, it was a marker for me of when I started my business and attained freedom to work everyday engulfed in my life’s passions (and get paid for it). In other words, the longer my hair, the longer my business has been in alive. The piece turned out to be one of my most shared articles and it therefore came as a bit of a surprise that I would eventually chop it off and share the deed online. There were no selfies or promotion of the deed itself of course, only a small announcement that my locks had been donated to a children’s charity and a request for others to do the same. Here is the second part of “The Real Reason I Have Long Hair” – the aftermath and my follicle’s future.
I have really nice hair. Lets just be honest, I am tall and use manners rather frequently but when ever anyone (women) offer complements, it is in admiration of my hair. My hair not unique in a truthful sense, but it is an odd combination, it curls into ringlets with the slightest touch and is a lovely blond color that brightens in the sun. As mentioned I grew my hair out longer than I ever had from about April of 2013 to February of 2016 as a means of self-appreciation. I obviously had to cut my hair shortly for the corporate world I lived in after my MBA, and once free truly on my own, I just let it grow. It was said my crazy hair was the first thing noticed about me and after a few years of its existence, I found it had reach 12 inches in length and had it cut.
The second part to my hairy story involved humility. The aftermath of my haircut was the first time in a very long time when, the asset, the thing everyone noticed was butchered, and I mean I looked like I was scalped by villagers. Because I literally stopped cutting my hair, I had grown natural layers which meant in order to get the full 12 inches required for donation we had to cut the hair still attached in equally uneven pieces. I wore a beanie for a week straight before figuring out how to salvage the mess. Still I did this on purpose, with intention and it was as much about helping children as it was an exercise of servility of myself.
My hair, my comfort, the symbol of my joy and freedom was given gladly for a greater cause than I, though went with it, was the edge I created in my mind. The piece of pride I selfishly I instilled symbolically too left. I traded my natural gift, for a crazy uneven frizzy not cool chrysanthemum do, and I already started growing it long again.
The information sent with each donation reads that the sum of 5 donations adds up to a full child’s wig. I don’t believe in selfies so I can’t show you at the moment but my hair is currently about an inch below my ears. I will donate again and again until I have reached said goal, as in addition to helping a child better endure heartbreaking times, I with each hair cut, am too thanking God for health and pretty hair “wasted on a man”. I will attached information of the charity below.
Wigs for Kids:
One of the only organizations that provides wigs and hairpieces to children in need regardless of the child’s familys’ ability to pay.